


The Fall

by malchanceux



Series: Nurse Kirk [3]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Enterprise, Star Trek: Into Darkness - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Nurse Jim, Omega Jim, Sassy Jim, Sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-07 01:11:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12830133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malchanceux/pseuds/malchanceux
Summary: Part 3 of my Nurse!Jim series.Jim's jump between the Enterprise and the Vengeance; the 'fall', the 'landing', and the 'bridge'.





	1. Part One: The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Been a while guys. Sudden inspiration to continue this series, even if it's just a short, two-chapter snippet. Enjoy, hopefully.
> 
> I do not have a beta, so if you see an error, lemme know. *finger guns*

Jim’s mask is cracked and, admittedly, he’s panicking. It’s a small breach, but Jim knows—because he’s done simulations of this kind of thing—that the battle between the pressure remaining in the suit versus the pressure pounding against it will not last long. Space will win and he’ll be a very dead nurse-sicle.

Jim also knows that he’s more likely to end up a pancake on the side of the _Vengeance_ before the suit has a chance to implode.

Jim dodges debris the best he can while the navigation screen flickers like a dying candle.

_“Kirk, readings show a malfunction in your suit. Status?”_

“Oh, you know Cap’n,” Jim says as lightly as he can manage, considering the situation, “Just a little crack. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

_“Captain, Kirk’s suit only has a 23% chance of sustaining full functionality. It is likely that communication and navigation will go down, minimum, with a more likely chance that life-support will follow with those programs.”_

“You know, Commander, I’ve always loved you for your sunny disposition,” the Omega snaps, “How about you _calculate_ something _useful._ Like if the bay doors are gonna open in time!”

_“I assure you, Kirk, the doors will—”_

_“That’s enough, Spock. Kirk, stop baiting him. He is still your superior. Now, status.”_

A stubborn pause.

“The suit will make it, but I can’t navigate like this. Around the debris? Probably. But into the Vengeance? Not a chance.”

It was hard for Jim to admit weakness, even harder when around people like Commander Spock (or god forbid, on a mission), but even as he strived to never allow his Omegan status to hold him back, he tried to keep himself from overestimating his capabilities as well. He wasn’t an Alpha, after all, never wanted to be, nor did he want _their_ trademark hubris. Shit like that got you killed in Starfleet.

 _“Move 32.7 degrees to your left,”_ a smooth voice said over Jim’s com.

Jim didn’t stop to question, just did as he was told. An echo of an Omegan response perhaps, but again, Jim wasn’t gonna die over trivial posturing. On any mission, one should trust the judgment of their teammates. Jim might not like Khan, but the Alpha needed him once aboard the goliath that was Marcus’s ship. Jim could trust the bastard to get him through this trial at least.

Jim shifted his position exactly 32.7 degrees, missing several giant chunks of the Enterprise as he went. For a moment the Omega waited for more instructions, expecting Khan to call out another order. He’s man enough to say a distinctly _Omegan_ yelp escaped him as strong arms encircled his torso.

“What the _hell_ are you doing!” Jim yells, trying to pry Khan’s hands off of him.

 _“Isn’t it obvious? Your suits systems are failing, mine are not. This is the most_ logical _solution.”_

Jim opens his mouth to argue the point, but communications suddenly fail, navigation quickly on its tail. He keeps his mouth shut, but pointedly keeps his hands gripping the Alpha’s. He was glad to not be dead, but there would be no _‘thank you’_ for Khan when _(if)_ they made it aboard the Vengeance.

Khan dodges debris like he was _born_ to, all easy grace and efficiency. It makes Jim want to gag, honestly, because fuck this guy and his _superior genetics._ At the same time, he can only appreciate what science and military training has created—Jim is, after all, a scientist and strategist at heart. He can see the value and skill behind Khan’s every move.

Of course, the Alpha ruins the moment. Jim feels himself being pinned more _snugly,_ being positioned to fit more _comfortably_ against the other man’s body. It is a shadow of an old traditional   _swaddle;_ a pose seen only with the most traditional of Alpha/Omega pairs, ancient and archaic as the _instincts_ behind the cradling was. The point was to both dominate and gentle an anxious Omega by completely encompassing their bodies.

Jim growls in response, grips Khan’s hands in what can only be painful, even for him, and tries to squirm out of the Alpha’s hold. Jim would take the damn odds of him being able to navigate on his own versus going _splat_ against the side of the Dreadnaught.

But, _of course,_ that’s when the life-support fails.

Jim stops moving entirely, holding his breath. Fear creeps in from the back of the Omega’s mind, making his heart race and panic. _No,_ he thinks fiercely, and tries to get a grip. This is what he had been trained for, this is what all those classes at the Academy were for. Strategy could only get you so far, improv and keeping a level head during a crisis was what made a Command Officer. Jim shut his eyes, let the strong hold Khan had on him be some form of comfort. The Alpha was created to excel in these types of situations. They would make it, _together_ , onto the Vengeance.

A sharp crack made Jim flinch, eyes flashing open to see his visor slowly begin to break apart. The small crack from before creeping and growing. The long, thin fingers of _Death_ attempting to breach his mask, smother and kill.

Either Jim would make it onboard with Khan, or he wouldn’t. There was nothing he could do to change his odds.

The Omega let his eyes fall closed once again, heart steady as a drum.

The hands around his chest grip tighter.

He is not prepared for the impact, mind preoccupied as it is. Jim hits the harsh metal grating of the Vengances’ hangar with loose limbs. He bounces like a god damn _ball,_ thrown from Khan’s hold, grunting all the way. He skids to a halt painfully on his back. He wastes no time with categorizing injuries, however, as the suit that was meant to _protect_ him in space was now _suffocating_ him in the newly sealed ship.

Jim takes gasping gulps of air, flinging the cracked mask away.

 _“Fuck,”_ he mutters breathlessly. No matter the training in the Academy, no matter how detailed and extensive, nothing could have prepared him for _that._

He opens his eyes, vision blurry, to the blaring lights of a massive hangar bay.

_No time to sleep on the job._

Jim hoists himself up, still breathing heavy, but for the most part he feels put back together. He scans his surroundings, noting the crafts that call this piece of the monstrous Vengance home. Some of the most expensive, up to spec ships hang proud and ready. Prepared for war, prepared to demolish a sister vessel. The heart of the mothership, cold and furious, reflecting in her deadly cargo.

Khan stands not too far off, mask removed and completely put together. His face is impassive, unreadable. Nothing to indicate the fall or the landing had any negative effect on him at all.

_Bastard._

Jim remembers the _embrace_ during the jump.

 _Scratch that,_ his face crumples into a scowl. _Typical lizard-brained, knot-head._

Khan’s eyes flicker over Jim’s face, a micro-expression of his own flickering over his features before disappearing. Jim doesn’t have the mind to care, at this point. He doesn’t put another thought into it. He pivots, mustering up all the confidence that survived his latest tangle with death, and starts sprinting toward the nearest exit. They had a very short timeline for this mission and a lot at stake. Neither of them had time to waste.

It doesn’t take long for Khan to catch up with him. Or, eh, pass him. Khan takes the lead like any typical Alpha, and Jim keeps himself from saying anything by reasoning Khan knew the quickest route to the Bridge.

They meet only a few hostiles along the way. Jim knew it would be like this. The Vengeance was created to be efficient, for minimal crew. What he didn’t know, what he couldn't have been prepared for, was the ferocity Khan would unleash upon those who did try and stop them.

Phaser set to stun, Jim takes out several Esigns of his own. But Khan--he _tears_ through them. The phaser he was lent is set to _kill_ and his fists do about as much damage.

“Stop! _Stop!”_ Jim yells as Khan repeatedly smashes one of their faces into the floor. “He’s down! _You’re killing him!”_

Khan stops, but just long enough to turn and snarl: “You would show them mercy?”

Jim reels back, at first, in shock. The Alpha smashes the ensigns head in _one more time,_ with a definitive _crack._

“The very men and women who would damn your entire crew to an undeserved execution?” Khan continues, voice vibrating with fury. This, _this_ confuses Jim. It jolts him from his fear induced stupor. The Alpha’s anger was not alien, but for it to be so focused, and on the behalf of the _Enterprise._ Jim knew that certain _particulars_ had not be divulged to him, these details only known to a few select of the Commanding Officers and the augment himself. And Jim had been okay with this. He was, at the end of the day, just a nurse. But the omega couldn't let these glossed over details taint the heart of the mission:saving lives.

Jim will not be cowed. He gathers himself and snarls _right back._ Face to face, barely inches apart, the Omega stares down the _superior_ Alpha, unafraid. This was _Jim’s mission._ This was _Jim’s plan._ He wasn’t going to let some hot-blooded asshole completely disregard him and the ethics he stood for.

Jim bares his teeth in a mockery of Alpha posturing and completely throws Khan off. For a moment the man backs down, his face scrunching and eyes widening.

“I _would--_ I would show mercy. _Human decency._ Because these are men and women following orders, and these are the rules I promised to _uphold_ as a Starfleet officer!”

Jim steps back, straightens himself as tall and broad as he can.

“Now you can either follow my lead and we can take this ship together, or I’ll stun you here and now. We are here for the Vengeance and Admiral Marcus, the crew are only doing their damn job.”

There is silence for a moment. The Alpha’s face has turned a terrible red, his temper boiling. For a second Jim half expects for Khan to _snap,_ for the Alpha to prove Spock right and turn on them and completely send the mission to shit. Instead, with a noticeable effort, the Alpha draws himself in. His face once again utterly impassive.

There is no verbal agreement, but Khan rises slowly, steadily, eyes never leaving Jim’s. An unspoken conversation.

 _‘Fine’,_ JIm swears he can hear in the same, snobbish tone from their discussion in the holding cells aboard the Enterprise. But he’s appeased. Surprised it was so easy, but appeased all the same.

“Okay,” Jim clears his throat, a little awkward now. “Where to next?”

Khan grunts in response, turning down one of a thousand hallways that all look the same.

“Good grief,” the Omega mumbles to himself, following quickly behind. He smiles, though, a secretive little smirk when he hears the distinct _‘click’_ of Khan’s phaser being set back to _stun._


	2. The Bridge

One of Spock’s arguments against letting Khan infiltrate the Vengeance was the dreadnaughts efficiency. It did not need much in the way of a crew to pilot. However, Jim had been quick to counter this point that Khan couldn’t pilot it alone, and even if he somehow managed to threaten Jim into doing it, the two still wouldn’t be enough. The ship required one rotation of Command Officers to operate optimally at all times; the worst case was a half crew with their resources strained.

The look Spock and Captain Pike had shared at Jim’s argument hadn’t made sense to him at the time. Eyes full of doubt and concern, but resigned to a plan they had little faith in. At the time Jim had chalked it up to his status, at it being  _ his plan _ , the usual suspects.

He really wished that, just this once, they’d broken chain of command and told him some of the  _ finer details  _ of Khan Noonien Singh’s complicated, if not confidential, past.

They make it to the Bridge in record time. Jim is out of breath, and his knuckles are sore and bloodied, but his heart is pumping faster than he can ever remember. He feels  _ alive  _ with adrenalin, different than his near death experience moments before. The omega had been through hundreds of simulations at the Academy for scenarios like this--having to infiltrate hostile ships--but nothing compared to the reality of it.

Jim’s not entirely sure how he’ll go back to just being a nurse after all of this.

They regroup just outside the bridge. Khan, of course, isn’t out of breath and his stupid perfect hair is still immaculate, but his eyes shine with the same excitement Jim is feeling. The omega gives a shaky nod, a small sign of camaraderie in their deadly situation. Jim may not like the man but they at least made a pretty badass team up to this point.

_ Here’s to hoping the rest of the mission goes just as smooth. _

There was an ancient Earth saying: knock on wood. Unfortunately, at the time, Jim hadn’t thought of it. Nor was there an ounce of wood to be found this far out in space.

Needless to say, it all goes downhill from there.

They burst through the door and onto the bridge like a blitzkrieg. Wordlessly, Jim takes the lower deck and stuns the crew. There’s five of them, and they all hit the floor before they have a chance to even draw a weapon. Khan has Marcus subdued at phaser point, but Jim isn’t paying them much mind. Instead, he finds himself staring very confusedly at one of the Enterprises new science officers.

“Carol?”

The blonde beta looks at him with bewildered, teary eyes.

“Rescue mission,” Jim blurts, answering an unasked question.

“I’m his daughter,” the scientist says in response.

Jim gives a look of  _ yes, of course, makes perfect sense  _ when in fact things just seem to keep getting muddier for the omega. But he takes it in stride. Particularly since he’s had a crush on Carol since he saw her mile long legs climb into the Enterprise. She was sweet, pretty, and could bark just as loud as any alpha. 

In retrospect, considering who her father was, her  _ ‘fight me’  _ attitude really isn’t so surprising anymore.

Still hot though.

“I should have killed you myself,” Marcus sneers from his captain’s chair. His eyes are molten with his temper, focused solely on Khan. “You and your worthless  _ crew.” _

Khan’s response is a guttural growl, deep from his chest and it speaks wonders about his own temperament right now.

“Crew?” Jim questions, because Marcus isn’t talking about the Enterprise.

“And  _ you,”  _ Marcus turns his steel gaze onto Jim. “Did they run out of betas on that ship? What the hell did Pike think would happen, sending an  _ omega  _ on an alpha's mission? He’s already triggered the grounds for a galactic war, does he think  _ he’ll  _ be the one to lead us to victory!”

The admiral let out a laugh, all malice.

“He sent a criminal and a  _ bitch  _ to do his crew's work. You all  _ need me.” _

Jim bit: “Big words considering that  _ criminal  _ and  _ bitch  _ have successfully taken your ship.”

Marcus’ face grows impossibly redder, a vein threatening to burst in his neck.

“What do you think happens now?” the admiral switched his attention back to Khan. “Are you thinking this small favor to them will mean they’ll let your crew go? They’re all going to burn for what you did.”

“What the  _ hell  _ are we talking about? What crew?”

“In the torpedos,” Carol interjected. “Khan told Captain Pike to open one up. We found  _ people  _ inside, Kirk. In cryostasis pods.”

“My  _ family,”  _ Khan concluded, voice a jagged razor edge.

“Your family? Why--you smuggled them? In  _ armed  _ torpedoes, are you  _ mad? _ ”

“What choice did I have?” Khan snarls, a volcanic rage churning beneath the alpha’s skin. He turned his steely gaze to the omega now. “For all the  _ ethics  _ and  _ vows  _ of your precious Starfleet, you held my family hostage in trade for my intellect. Wise enough to know you were too weak to survive in the vast universe unprepared as you were, but that is where Starfleet’s foresight ends.”

“Alone I could have survived, I could have left. They knew this. I was the only one of my crew they woke, with every intention of using the rest of my family as leverage to tame me.”

Khan’s phaser hummed ominously in his hand, finger poised over the trigger. Jim’s heart leapt into his throat. He was a nurse, he was  _ Starfleet.  _ For all Admiral Marcus had done, for all the harm, the omega stood firm by his oaths. Taking life was not in the agenda of Starfleet. Violence was always a last resort.

_ (At least, that’s how it was  _ supposed  _ to be.) _

Khan’s chest is wide, posture strong and threatening. He bore his gaze into Jim with every ounce of dominance that made up Khan Noonein Signh. 

_ Classic posturing. Put the lesser sex in their place. Paralyze their willful intentions. _

Khan turned his eyes back to Marcus, murderous intent clear.

There’s a flash of light, the sound of phaser fire echoing in the metallic chamber of the bridge. The meaty  _ thunk  _ of a body hitting the grated floor quickly follows after. The heat of discharge radiating from the barrel of a phaser.

“At least  _ somebody  _ has some goddamn sense,” Marcus bites, concern lacing his bravado. A nervous sweat had been collecting at his temples. The Admiral looked shakily from the unconscious augment splayed on the ground to the omega who put him there. “An omega had more sense than the entire crew of the  _ Enterprise _ . If that isn’t proof enough--”

_ “Shut up!”  _ Jim growled. Marcus’s jaw snapped shut in shock. It was probably the first time anyone, omega or otherwise, had had the balls to raise their voice to the man in years. “Don’t delude yourself, I didn’t do that for you, I did it for  _ Starfleet.”  _

The alpha’s hackles raised, indignant at the  _ audacity  _ of the omega who would so much as look him in the eye. Jim pressed on before he could be interrupted.

“You have tarnished our name enough, you have done  _ enough.  _ I will be taking both Khan  _ and  _ you back to the  _ Enterprise  _ as prisoners. You will face your crimes, you will stand trial. This is  _ done.” _

Face morphing into a snarl, the admiral lunged from his seat, fingers curled into claws.

Jim’s aim was true, his reactions fueled by controlled adrenalin. As a Starfleet officer, this is what his years of training had been for. Facing down those who would disrupt peace and bring about violence, those who could not be reasoned with.

Even if it was Starfleet itself.

Carol jumped, hands coming to her mouth to cover a gasp. Despite his crimes, Marcus was still her father. It was a shame it had come to stunning the man in front of his own flesh and blood.

“I’m sorry,” the omega said, harnessing his phaser at his hip. “It had to be done.”

“I know,” Carol’s eyes seemed so wide and innocent, teary as they were. She and the rest of her family would be dragged through the mud during the investigation into Admiral Marcus’s crimes, to be sure they too were not in on starting an intergalactic war. It wouldn’t be pretty. Jim wondered if, with so much happening, that fact had even come to the beta. Or if that realization would be a panic attack to have another day.

Jim moved to disarm the Admiral, handing the phaser to Carol before peeling the alpha from the Captain’s Chair. It was an awkward position, but as a nurse Jim was used to dealing with limp bodies, especially those larger than him. The Enterprise, for all it’s progressive command, was still full of foolhardy alphas wanting to prove themselves, throwing themselves into danger without a forethought. The infirmary, and therefore Jim, was often quite busy.

Jim secured the Admiral’s hands behind his back, dragging him to lean against one of the far walls, toward the elevator. Carol stood beside him, phaser out and set to stun. She was his daughter, but she was also a Starfleet officer. Jim admired her strength, he wasn’t sure what he himself would do in such a position. To put duty before the very man who raised you.

Or perhaps, for Carol, that’s what made it such a natural decision.

Jim hesitated with Khan. He had been detrimental to the mission, had covered Jim’s back their entire fight to the bridge. He also wanted to murder Marcus, and possibly go after Starfleet in a fit of misplaced rage. In the end, he cuffed the alpha and put him on the other side of Carol, away from Marcus.

The interface of the Vengeance was different than the Enterprise, but not by much. It took only a little tinkering on Jim’s part to open a line of communication with Captain Pike.

“The Vengeance is secured,” Jim would be lying if he said his chest didn’t puff a bit, shoulders back and head held high. He felt awful about phasing Khan, and worse for having to phase Marcus in front of Carol, but he was still an omega that planned and led a desperate mission to success. “Marcus is incapacitated. Khan is also… out for the count.”

_ “Christ, kid,” _ Pike was grinning like a loon.  _ “You are the reason I have grey hair.” _

“You’re welcome,” Jim quipped, and he felt his shoulders come down a bit, the stress of the mission leaving him, the urgency simmering down. “But I can’t take all the credit, sir. I couldn't do that to Spock.”

_ “It is incredibly unlikely I am in any way responsible for the pigment change of the Captain’s hair,” _ the Vulcan’s voice came from off screen, his general misunderstanding of human rhetoric was comforting in a such a foreign situation. Jim’s lips lifted, briefly, in a small smile. The details of the mission, the ones left unsaid before Jim’s departure, quickly has it falling from his face.

“The torpedos,” the omega starts, and Jim can recognize the micro expression that flitters across Pike’s features. Their existence, what is inside them, makes him incredibly uncomfortable. As it should. “If you were able to open one, could we--could we open them all? Khan’s crew. I’m not saying we should wake them up,  but their current accommodations are obviously not safe. It would be--” Jim struggles for the right wording, how to bundle up how  _ fucked up _ the situation was.  _ “Wrong,  _ to leave leave them as they are.”

Pike sighed, the exhilaration of a mission success laying wake for the exhaustion of the dire situation they have been placed in. 

_ “We’re going to be very busy in the medical bay, Kirk. I’m going to need you back aboard the Enterprise. The medical wing is about to get an influx of augment icicles.” _

“Thank--” Jim hears the the  _ clink  _ of Starfleet standard cuffs snapping, of Carol being knocked to the ground. His hand races to the grip of his phaser, but as he turns, as Jim draws his weapon and brings a charge to life, Khan has already taken the beta’s weapon from her control and fired at Jim.

At the Academy, is was standard practice toward the end of your classes, at the cusps of graduation, for a cadet to be shot by a phaser set to stun, at it’s safest, lowest setting. As an omega, a gender that should never see confrontation in their career, Jim was excused from the exercise. He had of course fought the policy tooth and nail, and in the end Jim’s pretty sure his professors only agreed because they found pleasure in shooting down the mouthy omega who didn’t know its place. Still, he remembers that is was the strangest, most unpleasant thing he’d ever felt in his life.

Being shot now, his sternum burning from the impact, at the end of Khan’s phaser, Jim still agreed this was the most unpleasant sensation he had ever experienced in his twenty-five years alive.

A wave of static wafts over his entire body, in its wake is a disconcerting  _ numbness.  _ Jim’s legs give out, his arms limp and useless as he  _ crumples  _ into a heap, body hitting the deck like a bag of rocks. After a few seconds, the numbness fades, and pain follows. The omega is not unconscious, but he might as well be. There is a balance between wakefulness and the embrace of the depths of his mind, he walks the path on a tightrope. The phaser wasn’t set high enough to push him tumbling over, just enough to paralyze him.

Jim’s nerves are aflame, mimicking the pain of being submerged in a too hot pool of water. It burns to even breathe. Though this was the more  _ humane  _ way Starfleet had found for dealing with hostiles, it was not a walk in the park.

A scream sends Jim tumbling over his tightrope, over the side of conscious. He comes to with a lazy gasp, eyes flying open but having trouble focusing at first. This, Jim knows, is not the phaser. This is the product of hitting his head on the decks unforgiving floor. From the feel of it, Jim was sure he had a concussion. 

A wet sob brings Jim out of his revere. His head swiveled toward the sound, nausea building at the movement. It takes but a moment for Jim’s eyes to focus enough to understand what he’s seeing.

Carol lays on the floor, tears spilling freely, gripping her thigh hard enough her fingernails drew crescents of blood. Her leg lies in front of her, shin crooked and very clearly broken.

_ “You should have let me sleep!” _

It’s said so viciously, the voice almost inhuman to Jim’s ears. His gaze moves from Carol to Khan. The alpha stands over a bloodied Admiral Marcus, large, pale hands encompassing Marcus’s entire head. It took a moment for Jim to understand what he was seeing. That he was witnessing a man's skull being crushed like a melon.

There’s a wet  _ crack _ , blood seeping from the Admiral’s nose and mouth and eyes. Carol screams, wet pleas that are too little too late.

Jim throws up.

_ Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. _

His mind is reeling. He needs to get control of himself.

Jim guides his clumsy hands to his belt holster, pulling his weapon free. He doesn’t even get the phaser on before Khan is there, pulling the weapon from his phaser-weak fingers. A boot lands heavy on his chest, knocking the wind from Jim, holding him firmly in place.

“Stay. Down.”

“Fucking  _ make me _ , asshole.”

Khan’s snarl is his only answer. They both knew Jim wasn’t going anywhere.

The alpha proceeds to then ignore Jim and the wreck of a science officer he left in his wake. He keeps his finger ready to fire off another shot, but he pays Jim nor Carol no obvious mind. Instead, he takes of the communication the omega had opened with the Enterprise.

“I have your  _ men,”  _ Khan sneers.

_ “Don’t hurt them, Khan, they’ve done nothing to you.” _

The augment scoffs, but otherwise does not recognize the Captain had spoken.

“I purpose a trade,” he says instead, and his fingers fly over the console, briefly, before settling at his side again. “All I want is my crew. For them, I will give you yours.”

_ “I can’t do that, Khan. You know I can’t.” _

“Can’t, or won’t? All we want is to be left alone. No harm would have befallen your Starfleet had Admiral Marcus let us be.”

_ “I can’t undo the past, Khan. I can’t undo the Admiral’s wrongs. But we can make things right if we go back to Headquarters,” _ Pike’s reasoning was sound, the safest route. Jim knew it meant nothing to Khan, a man apparently taken for a loop by Starfleet, who was only doing what he thought was necessary for his family. _ “You killed people, good people. Innocents. I’m not about to hand over seventy-two possible hostiles, let alone torpedos. Come back with me. You will stand a fair trial.” _

Khan laughed then, a deep thing full of a cynics mirth and something much,  _ much  _ darker.

“My kind has been on trial our entire lives, judged for doing as we were created to do.”

_ “Jim has done nothing to wrong you, nor Carol for that matter. Don’t punish good people, the same Officers who helped you secure your family in the first place. Because of them we are no longer facing down Marcus’s wrath.” _

“I suppose I do owe them at least that much,” Khan said conceded. Suddenly, alarms began to blare over the screen. 

_ “Sir, the torpedos--” _

_ “What in the hell--Khan!” _

“Thank you for your assistance with Admiral Marcus, Captain Pike. I have my ship, I have my crew; your services will no longer be necessary.”

“What?” Jim blurts from his place on the floor. What the hell was going on?

The line of communication between both ships cuts off abruptly.

“What did you do?” Jim yells, voice laced with panic.

“Pike showed his hand. He has my crew, all of them, still tucked in their cryostasis tubes in the weapons bay. I scanned the  _ Enterprise _ and beamed them over.”

The thought was dizzying. Things were quickly spiralling out of control.

Khan lifted his boot from Jim’s chest, instead deciding to loom over the omega.

“I have a proposal for you,” he said, face blank. Jim thought that was more terrifying than the previously displayed anger. “I will leave the Enterprise intact, I will beam Carol Marcus and her father’s corpse aboard the vessel, and I will send a beacon of distress back to Earth on the Enterprise’s behalf. All of this I will do for their wellbeing, but only if you assist me in releasing my crew from their cryostasis.”

“Why do you need  _ my _ help?”

Khan smirked. “Despite what most may think, I do not know  _ everything.  _ While I could wake them myself, it would be in their best interest if a medical professional was present.”

Jim’s knee jerk reaction was to explain that, no, he wasn’t a medical professional, his credits leaned toward Command and being a nurse was secondary so he could even be assigned a ship. But then Marcus’s death played over in his head, the sickening crack of crushed bone, and Jim kept those details to himself.

“What guarantee do I have you’ll do  _ any  _ of that?”

“There is none, save my word. But what other options do you have?”

“Jim,” Carol pleaded past trembling lips from across the bridge.  _ “Don’t.” _

A darkness settled over Khan’s features, and in that moment Jim feared for Carol’s life. Could Khan separate the crimes of the father from his offspring? 

“I’ll help!” Jim blurted. “Christ almighty, you fucking psychopath, I’ll help you!”

Khan did not answer, not verbally. He moved back to the console, fingers quick over the keys.

“Jim?” A familiar light began to engulf Carol and her father’s body. “Jim, no! Leave Jim  _ alone  _ you--”

And she was gone, just as Khan had promised. Jim looked up at the alpha, the man who, not even an hour ago, had helped guide him through the wreckage of the Enterprise. Had trusted his plan to jump from the trash shoot of their ship and into the landing bay of the Vengeance. They had fought like comrades through the bowels of the dreadnaught, a tentative alliance. It was strange to harbor so much fear for a man who had probably saved his life a dozen times today.

There was a tension in the air. One borne from the realization that Jim is, for all intents and purposes, a prisoner; a captive. It was a tension of being alone with an enemy  _ alpha,  _ with no one else for support, knowing he was out matched in strength and intellect; all the cards stacked against him.

It’s one of the few times in his life Jim could recognize he had been put in an unbeatable situation.

“Alright,” Jim cracked a cocky grin, strained as it was by his building anxiety. He needed some kind of control back, even if it was just over his demeanor. “Show me where the human popsicles are and let's get this over with. I free your crew, you send me back to my ship, and you all leave to live out the rest of your lives as Starfleet fugitives. Easy as pie.”

Minutely, Khan’s stone expression cracks, the slightest up curl of his lips, fleeting but there all the same.

“Easy as pie,” he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There could definitely be more in the future. Here's to hoping I get hit with Star Trek inspiration again, yeah?


End file.
